


Who Needs Sex When You Can Have Cake?

by evilwriter37



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Asexual!Crowley, Baking, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, asexual!aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 20:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20264299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley try having sex and realize the activity is not for them. They have to find other ways to show each other their love.





	Who Needs Sex When You Can Have Cake?

Crowley kissed Aziraphale. Aziraphale kissed him back. They were in Crowley’s flat, the Monday after the end of the world, with nothing to do but spend time with each other. And, well, they wanted to try out some more human things. Humans kissed. They did more than kissing. They were both willing to give it a go.

Crowley pressed Aziraphale back onto the bed, removing his suit jacket. Then his hands went to his tartan bowtie, deftly undoing it.

“And humans do this without clothes?” Aziraphale asked, pulling out of the kiss.

Crowley snorted, then tilted his head to give him an odd look. “I thought you’d read about this.”

“I have,” he said. His cheeks flushed red, a very human thing, but then again, their bodies could be very human if they wanted them to be. “I’m just nervous. Have you, uh, done this before?”

“Not with you, I haven’t.” Crowley came back in and kissed him. 

In truth, Crowley hadn’t ever done this before. The idea had never really appealed to him. He’d heard of it, witnessed it, all that, but he always wondered  _ why _ people had sex with each other. What was the point of it besides reproduction? But then he’d fallen in love with Aziraphale, and he’d thought that maybe there was a point. To touch each other, to know intimately of each other. Yes, there were other ways to show love, but they hadn’t tried this one yet. They were still very new to loving each other, or, at least knowing that they loved each other. Crowley had loved Aziraphale for a very long time, and he was sure Aziraphale had too, but they hadn’t really expressed and realized said love until very recently. Armageddon had brought things out in them, both good and bad. That’s what Crowley liked about Aziraphale. He wasn’t a perfect goody-two-shoes like he had pretended he was. And, Crowley admitted, he wasn’t as bad of a person as he tried to be. 

There were no more façades with the two of them, which made all of this better. Crowley wasn’t playing for Hell anymore, and he didn’t have to pretend to, and Aziraphale wasn’t playing for Heaven. They were hoping that Heaven and Hell were done with them after what had happened yesterday, what with switching places and all. They didn’t know about that trick, thought they had turned into something other than just an angel and just a demon. Seeing the frightened look on Grabriel’s face after what he’d done and said to Aziraphale had been priceless.

They kissed while they undid each other’s clothes: deep, slow, passionate kisses. Aziraphale tasted like the cake he’d just eaten, vanilla and cinnamon, and another flavor he couldn’t place that seemed to be distinctly Aziraphale’s and no one else’s. Crowley liked kissing Aziraphale. He wondered if he would like this too.

But then, once they were naked from the waist up, Crowley began to feel odd. It wasn’t strange being naked around Aziraphale necessarily. It was the touching, the way his hands ran over said nakedness. Aziraphale’s hands were warm, and he liked holding them in his own, but this just… felt strange. And so did the thought of touching Aziraphale similarly. He didn’t know quite what to do, where to start, how to feel. He figured he might as well try though. What if Aziraphale wanted it? So, he ran one hand over his chest. 

No, no, that felt strange. Crowley didn’t want to pull his hand away, didn’t want to make him think anything was wrong, so he just left his hand there. He straightened though, and Aziraphale tilted his head at him. 

“What is it?”

“Something feels weird,” Crowley said. “I’m not… feeling it.”

“What do you mean by ‘feeling it’?” Aziraphale asked.

Now Crowley pulled his hand away. He sat down next to Aziraphale on the bed, killing whatever the mood had been.

“Touching you,” Crowley said. “Being touched. It’s not…” He snapped his fingers, trying to recall the words. “There are no sparks.”

“Well, we can make sparks.”

Crowley smiled with a roll of his eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Aziraphale sat up. “Yes, I do. Was just trying to lighten the mood. Humans do act like there are supposed to be invisible sparks when this happens, don’t they?”

Crowley nodded. “And I’m just not feeling it.”

Aziraphale looked sad to admit it but he said, “Me neither.”

“So, what does that mean?” Crowley asked. He was nervous now. Was there something wrong with the relationship since neither of them wanted to have sex with each other? Humans acted like that was a very important part of romantic relationships. Then again, they didn’t have to do their relationship the same way humans did.

“Maybe this activity just isn’t for us.” Aziraphale turned towards him on the mattress, crossing one leg. “It’s not something we  _ have  _ to do. We thought we’d give it a try, and neither of us are feeling it, so we don’t have to.”

“Then what do we do instead?” Crowley asked. “Humans act like it’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. Which, I invented by the way, thank you very much.”

Aziraphale gave him a funny look. “What mayhem was sliced bread supposed to cause?”

“Something about the convenience of it disrupting the household and family,” Crowley explained.

Aziraphale nodded as if that made sense. It hadn’t made sense to Crowley when he’d done it.  _ He’d  _ just wanted the convenience of pre-sliced bread, so he’d gone ahead and invented it for everybody else.

“But yes, what do we do instead?” Aziraphale pondered. He looked at Crowley, tapped his chin. “Do you… think there’s something wrong?” he inquired. “Over the fact that we can’t have sex?”

Crowley shrugged, trying to hide that he was indeed worried over this. “We  _ are _ the first angel and demon to try. Maybe we’re just not meant for it.” Yes, that had to be it. They didn’t want to have sex with each other because they weren’t made for it, not because of some issue with their relationship. And besides, how could there be any issue? Yes, this type of relationship was fairly new, only about two days old, but they’d been friends for millenia. They knew each other better than they’d known anyone else.

“We should try other things to make each other happy,” Aziraphale suggested, scooting forward, their legs touching. “There are plenty of other ways.”

“Yes, I suppose there are,” Crowley said dismally, not so readily over this roadblock as Aziraphale.

“Yes, so many other things to do!” Aziraphale stood excitedly, smiling, mind surely full of ideas now. “We can go on picnics, or down to the coast, or to the movies!”

“Ngk,” Crowley agreed halfheartedly. The sound had Aziraphale sitting down again, suddenly looking very serious. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” Crowley said sarcastically. “Just that we can’t do the one thing the humans view as the pinnacle of intimacy.” How was he supposed to show his love for Aziraphale? He wasn’t good at showing love for people and things. He’d been told not to for thousands of years, for longer than the Earth had existed.

“But we just said we can do other things.” Aziraphale didn’t seem to understand why he was upset.

“Yes, but I don’t know how to  _ do _ other things,” Crowley said. “Unless I’m performing silly little miracles for you!” Yes, that was right. He did know how to show love. He knew how to make Aziraphale smile. But, outside of miracles, he didn’t know how.

“Well,” Aziraphale moved close to him, “you already know what I like. I’m certain you can find something outside of miracles.”

“Why can’t you just  _ tell  _ me what to do?”

“That would take the fun out of it.”

Crowley sighed. “Alright. I’ll think of something.” His voice showed his lack of confidence.

Aziraphale kissed him on the forehead, more confident in him than he was in himself. “I’m sure you will.”

  
  


Aziraphale certainly found little things to make Crowley smile. He would water his plants for him, talk to them, but with gentle words and coos, something Crowley was very much not used to, and neither were his plants. It upset him at first. The plants didn’t deserve the kind language. Nor did he. But, the longer he listened to Aziraphale, the longer he realized he liked the sounds of it.

“Oh, you’re looking so green today!”

“What lovely, large leaves you have!”

“Yes, there’s a good plant. You like your water, don’t you?”

“Your leaves are just beautiful!”

Crowley still watered his plants of course, but Aziraphale liked to do it for him now too, and, listening from the parlour, the words would make Crowley smile.

  
  


Aziraphale would let him drive the new but old Bentley as fast as he wanted and play whatever music he wanted. Of course, that music was Queen, as was any music that got left in his car overnight. It was good music though, and he would find himself singing along with the lyrics. Soon, Aziraphale would sing along with Crowley. His voice wasn’t built for singing, but he knew the words. He actually knew the words! He’d taken the time to really hear the music, to know it, and that made Crowley smile too.

  
  


So, it was his turn to make Aziraphale smile. Crowley was wearing an apron he’d miracled on, as he didn’t want to get any flour on his black pants or shirt. He had all sorts of ingredients out before him, along with implements like mixing bowls and spoons and measuring cups. Aziraphale had a sweet tooth through and through, so Crowley was going to bake him a cake. He hoped chocolate would do.

Though, there was a problem: Crowley had never baked before. The book of pastry recipes he’d picked up at the store said nothing about keeping the dry ingredients separate from the wet ones, and he ended up losing the egg yolks in the mass of flour and sugar for quite some time. It also didn’t say to scrape any extra ingredients off the top of the measuring cup to get it exact. However, it did say to rub butter on the bottom and sides of the cake pan before putting it in. That was good, so the cake, though lumpy, came easily out of the pan when he flipped it. The book failed to mention to let the cake cool before frosting it, so now the frosting had melted off and he would have to make another batch and do it all again.

By the end of it, Crowley was covered up to his forearms in flour, sugar, and frosting, and the front of his apron was stained brown with chocolate batter and frosting. He somehow hadn’t avoided getting any of it on his shirt. There might have been some on his face.

“Oh, something smells delicious,” Aziraphale commented, stepping into the kitchen. Crowley hadn’t been ready to present him with the cake yet, and he spun around in surprise.

“No, you’re not supposed to be in here!”

Aziraphale paid his words no mind, stepped over to the kitchen table where the cake sat, now frosted a second time, the first batch of frosting drying on the bottom of the plate.

“Crowley, is that a cake?” Aziraphale asked, pointing. He looked him over, saw the mess he was, then glanced at the mess on the counters. “You’ve been baking.”

“I have,” Crowley affirmed.

“Why?” Aziraphale asked. “You never cook or bake anything. You just always miracle yourself something, which seems like cheating to me, if you’d like to know.”

“Yes, you already told me it seems like cheating,” Crowley said with a wave of his hand. He went over to the sink, deciding he should wash up. “But I figured I could do this one thing myself, you know?”

“Baking a cake?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

_ Aziraphale, sometimes you can be such an idiot. _

Once his hands and arms were clean and dry, Crowley took off his apron and put it over a chair. He came over to Aziraphale, put his hands on his waist. 

“I made it for you.”

“For me?” Aziraphale seemed shocked. So he wasn’t used to receiving affection. Given the way that Heaven had treated him, Crowley wasn’t surprised. He’d received more affection from the hellhounds.

“Yes, for you,” Crowley said. “I, um, I don’t know if it turned out any good, but I thought I would try. I know you like sweet things.”

“Oh, I  _ love _ sweet things.” There was a huge smile on Aziraphale’s face. “Let’s try it, shall we?”

  
  


The cake was dry, but the frosting helped with the flavor, as that hadn’t turned out all that bad. Crowley thought it was okay, but Aziraphale ate his slice, and then a second one, like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Aziraphale downed his glass of milk, then wiped his mouth. That was the fastest Crowley had ever seen him eat in his life. Usually, he ate slowly, savoring every bite, but he’d eaten this like he couldn’t get enough of it.

“That was the best cake I’ve ever had,” Aziraphale commented.

“Was it?” Crowley didn’t believe him.

“Yes.” There was a twinkle in Aziraphale’s eyes. “It was excellent.”

“It was dry.”

“But  _ you _ made it,” Aziraphale pointed out. “That’s what made it taste better than something I can get at an average bakery.”

Crowley blinked in surprise at his words. The cake tasted better just from the fact that he’d made it?

Aziraphale was just smiling at him, one of those lovey dovey smiles of his, and it was infectious, because soon, Crowley was smiling too.

“Thank you, Crowley. That made me very happy.”

“Happier than sex?” Crowley asked, wanting to check.

Aziraphale waved a hand. “I’ve never had sex, so I can’t know, but given how offput we both were by it, yes, much happier than sex. Did you like baking?”

“I did,” Crowley answered, surprised to look back on the hours he’d spent to find that he’d enjoyed them. “Because I was doing it for you.”

Aziraphale’s smile had been beaming, but now it softened to a low glow that hit Crowley right in the chest. He found himself leaning over the table, Aziraphale doing the same thing, and they kissed. They’d found that they enjoyed kissing, just nothing past it. They enjoyed sleeping in Crowley’s big bed together, curled up around each other. They enjoyed grooming each other’s wings. They enjoyed staying in their pajamas on a Saturday morning and lazily watching tv together. They enjoyed everything but sex, and now Crowley realized they didn’t need the sex. They had a full relationship without it. There was nothing to be added.

“See?” Aziraphale winked. “Who needs sex when you can have cake?”


End file.
